Barely Breathing
by lostsoul512
Summary: Wesker is leading the ultimate double life, STARS captain by day and Umbrella researcher by night. Then there is his secret relationship with Claire Redfield and his increasingly strained friendship with William Birkin. And just when he thinks things cant get any worse, his four year old son is dropped off on his doorstep.
1. Beginning

**A/N: Hello! So I'm doing that whole 100 words challenge, and I decided Resident Evil was the most fitting fandom for it. I love you guys, remember that. And I know you probably hate me for the way I bounce around fandoms and all. And I'm sorry for that. So, yeah, enjoy this lovely little number. **

_I am barely breathing_

_And I cant find the air_

_Don't know who I'm kidding_

_Imagining you care_

_I could stand here waiting_

_A fool for another day_

_I don't suppose it's worth the price that I would pay_

_But I'm thinking it over anyway_

_-Duncan Sheik-_

Beginning:

My head was saying no, but my heart was saying, "Why not?"

As usual, this story started with a girl.

Of course, this was no ordinary girl. The ones worth remembering never are. And I was no ordinary man. And this was no ordinary love.

On the run, with no one to love. That was my life before her. Then she swept in and changed everything, with a single glance.

The ones worth remembering always do.

It begins, this girl pressed between the wall and my own body, my bare chest and her bare chest, and those fucking lips working magically down my neck. The sounds of panting and gasping for more. My hands were on her hips as I grinded into her, pulling her closer, closer, fighting off a moan of ecstasy as she raked her own nails down my bare back. She'll reach up to run her fingers through my hair, or she'll draw her tongue across my collarbone, or she'll grab my-

No, wait.

It begins at a desk.

My desk. It's covered in paperwork. Of all the things in the world that I hate, and there were many, nothing comes close to fucking paperwork. The sounds of ringing phones and muffled voices. My head is pounding from another night of no sleep. I stifle a laugh. As if I have time to sleep these days, between this place and Umbrella. I am running on empty at all hours of the day, forcing myself to stay awake and get through another day.

I have better things to do than babysit these obnoxious, arrogant officers.

In a few minutes, I'm to have a meeting with my team. It's supposed to be a pep talk of sorts, telling them how well they have been doing in training and all that. Boosting their ego, as if it needs boosting anymore. With the way my head is hurting, and the way my actual job is eating away at my mind, I honestly don't know how I'm going to make it through.

Sighing, I push my chair away from my desk and head out of the confined office to pour myself another cup of coffee. The scalding liquid sears my throat on the way down, but I drink it fast anyway, and I hardly even notice the pain. Things like pain, or emotions, those don't bother me anymore. I don't have time to feel them.

I hear someone behind me clearing their throat, and turn around slowly. It's Jill Valentine, perhaps one of the only tolerable people on the STARS team. She has her dark hair tied back and a slight smile on her lips. "Bad night?" She murmurs, eyeing both my exhausted appearance and the coffee in my hand.

Bad night doesn't even begin to describe it, but I can't exactly get into that with her. I can't exactly tell her about my late night at the lab, my minor spats with William Birkin about anything and everything. He's a good man, Birkin, but we do tend to have our differences. The most predominant one being that I am not a good man.

Jill gives a nod of understanding, slowly coming to the realization that I am not going to respond. "Everyone is ready for the meeting," she says instead, turning away from me. I take this as an indication to follow her, a humorous thought since I was in fact _her_ captain. Still, I trail behind the brunette as we make our way to the conference room. It's pretty bland, just a long table with a handful of chairs around it. Most of them are occupied by the members of the Alpha team. I eye them all one by one, Brad and Joseph talking quietly while Barry and Chris are goofing off in the corner.

I make my way to the front of the room while Jill takes her place with the others. Clearing my throat gets their attention. "Right," I say slowly. I'm sure it's written all over my face that this is the last place I want to be. Under normal circumstances, I would at least try to exert some power over them. Under normal circumstances, though, I wouldn't even be here. I belong in the lab, conducting studies.

I keep having to remind myself that this whole mission is for the greater good of Umbrella. I've sold my soul to that company, if I ever had one to begin with.

"So, uh, you guys are doing great with the training, and all." I rub at my temples slowly, massaging the area in little circles with my fingertips. Damn this migraine to Hell.

The team is staring at me expectantly, waiting for me to say something more. I have nothing more to say, though, and they can see that in the way my lips are turned down. They could see it in my eyes, too, if they weren't shielded by the sunglasses I never take off. It was a barrier, a way to protect myself from giving too much away. I cant afford to give myself away, not yet. I have way too much riding on this little ruse.

"Is that it?" It is Chris Redfield who speaks out. I should have expected as much. Chris is always looking for ways to challenge me, to stand up against my authority.

"I'm sorry," I say bitingly. "I didn't realize you were expecting a State of the Union report."

Chris holds his ground, never tearing his dark eyes away from my face. "Well, I was expecting a little more than a half hearted statement, yeah."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, but just barely. "Sorry to disappoint you," I reply, my words dripping with sarcasm.

In a single motion, I am sweeping out of the room, away from them and this whole damn thing. I blink hard as another searing pain flashes through my head. In that brief moment, I feel my body collide with someone else. Instinctively I reach out, grabbing the figure around the waist to steady their footing. When I open my eyes, they are locked with those of the softest blue.

This is the first time I meet her.

Claire Redfield.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry!" The girl blurts out, taking a step back. My hands instantly fall to my sides, but neither of us moves. We are stuck in this awkward stare, both the most uncomfortable and intense thing I have ever felt in my life.

"It's quite alright," I say smoothly, stepping aside so that she may pass me. The girl lingers for a moment longer before pushing past me into the conference room.

Just before I disappear down the hall way, I hear her soft giggle over my shoulder. "You're right, he _is_ terrifying."

I clench my hands into little fists.

This is how it begins.


	2. Inconceivable

**A/N: Hey, all! I'm very glad to see that this story is getting some attention already. I would greatly appreciate some honest reviews to let me know how you guys are liking it, yeah? Anyway, I've been up for like thirty-six hours now, so I'm off to bed. Lots of kisses. Enjoy! **

Inconceivable:

Smoke tendrils are dancing up into the air, disappearing entirely with every breath I exhale.

The release it brings me is inconceivable.

Usually I'm not one for basic human vices, but with everything going on in my life lately, I seem to have been smoking more and more cigarettes with every passing day. I am standing outside the precinct, leaning against the brick wall of the building and staring up at the stars above.

People always seem to find some hidden meaning in stars, some vague metaphor to romanticize them. A beacon of hope or something like that. Me, I've lost hope in most things long ago, and the only thing I see them as are stars.

I take another drag, letting the smoke burn its way down my throat and into my lungs. It's chilly tonight, and I find myself slinking further into my long black leather coat. Chief Irons had given me another mountain of paperwork, before he so casually strutted off into the night. _Better have it finished by morning_, he had said, this demeaning gleam in his dark eyes.

Needless to say, I will not be making it to Umbrella tonight.

I realize my cigarette has burnt out at the end, and toss the butt onto the sidewalk. I know I should be heading back inside and getting a start on that paperwork if I ever hope to finish it by the time Irons returns in the morning. But there is something about the night that always makes me feel so at peace.

Maybe I am more of a romantic than I thought.

…

I never remember my dreams. I know I must have them, and they must be rather vivid, because there are many nights I find myself waking with a start, drenched in a cold sweat and shaking. I am never able to recall the nightmares, and I suppose I wouldn't want to if I could.

I must have been having one of those nightmares, because when I wake up at my desk I jump so hard I manage to spill half the papers onto the floor. "Shit," I mutter, bending over to pick them up. The clock on the wall reads barely nine-o-clock, meaning I was asleep for almost two hours. I've barely even started any of my work, and I'm not even going to think about all the shit waiting for me back in the lab. This day simply could not get any longer.

Finally getting the last of the papers off the floor, I straighten up.

And see a figure slinking past my door.

I know there are other people here; it isn't exactly as though the police department closes. But years of working for Umbrella has created in me this innate sense of paranoia, and the sleep deprivation does little to appease that. Still, I choose to ignore it, return to my desk and at least attempt to get through some of this paperwork.

There is nothing I hate more than fucking paperwork.

A few more minutes pass by, as I look over the case reports and witness statements from the day. A few domestic disputes that had gotten out of control, and an attempted car jacking gone wrong. STARS had been formed in response to the recent crime spike in Raccoon, and I've been dealing with the outcome of that for the last two months since being appointed Captain.

Only a few minutes are actually spent on this, though, and then I am interrupted by a knock upon my office door. A frown on my face, I look up to see who could possibly be bothering me at this time.

Whoever I expect, it is most certainly not the thin redhead now standing in my doorway. I raise my brows unsurely as Claire Redfield offers me a tiny wave. "Hey, Captain Wesker," she greets softly. There is an undertone of sadness in her voice, and although I pick up on it instantly I remain silent. Claire bites down nervously on her bottom lip, crossing her arms over her chest. "Is, uh, my brother here? He wasn't home, and I though maybe-"

"Christopher left some time ago with Miss Valentine," I reply, cutting her off. Claire lets out a deep sigh, tugging at the ends of her ponytail. Her body language is an open book, giving herself away fully. She would rather be anywhere but here.

It is a feeling I can appreciate.

"Okay," she murmurs, turning away from me. "Sorry to bother you, Captain."

She is walking away from my office; I can hear her footsteps growing fainter down the hall. My gaze lingers on the place where she just stood, and I swallow hard.

I wasn't planning on finishing those papers anyway.

"Cla- Miss Redfield, wait." I step into the hall, my black coat sweeping behind me. My fingers are still lingering on the doorknob, and I realize they're trembling ever so slightly.

This _girl_ is making me _tremble_.

Claire glances back at me over her shoulder, her hair flipping around as she does. She doesn't say anything, but her eyes are urging me to go on, those bright blue eyes standing out even from down the hall.

I clear my throat, realizing I've been staring and that she has been waiting for me to speak. "Do you need a ride home?"

A confused look comes over her face. I can practically feel her hesitation seeping off of her in spite of all the distance between our bodies. Just as I'm beginning to regret the decision at all, as I usually do whenever I try to do something inherently good, Claire curves her lips into a small smile. "That would be great."

…

The ride is not, in fact, great, but rather an incredibly awkward and silent experience. I know Claire can feel it too because she is balling her hands into little fists and staring out the window the entire time. About the only words spoken are the directions to get to her house across town.

At long last, I am easing my black Audi up to the curb across the street from her house, throwing the car into park.

"Thanks for the ride, Captain Wesker," Claire said quietly. Already her fingers are hovering over the door handle. She is looking anywhere but at me.

And then.

Claire Redfield is sobbing in the passenger seat of my car.

I'm not entirely sure what to do in this situation, except to grip the steering wheel tightly until my knuckles turn white. We sit there for more minutes than I care to recall, and I'm fighting the urge to light up a cigarette. Claire has her face buried in her hands as her small body is racked with uncontrollable sobs.

"Are you okay?" I ask, the words coming out uncertainly. I realize a moment too late what a stupid question this is. If she were okay, she wouldn't be crying in my car. Still, Claire forces herself to nod.

"I'm sorry," she manages to choke out. It's the third time that day that she has apologized to me, and not one of those times did she have anything to actually be sorry about. "It's just…" Another sniffle. "It's the anniversary of my parents' death, and Chris said he would be home, and…" She trails off, finally looking back up at me. Even with red eyes and mascara stained cheeks she is beautiful.

I reject that thought as soon as it forms.

Claire's blue eyes flicker from my face to her front door across the road. "Would you like to come in?" She blurts suddenly, before recoiling into her seat. A blush rises to her cheeks. I must admit, the flushed and innocent thing works well for her. "I could make some coffee, or something. And, if I'm being honest, I could really use the company."

I blink slowly, mulling over her words. My head is saying no, but my heart is saying, 'Why not?' I didn't even realize I have anything left in that hollow cavity where my heart belongs. But whatever broken pieces remain, it is this girl's gentle voice that has managed to bring them to life.

I kill the engine and muster a smile for her. "I'd love to, Miss Redfield."


	3. Inevitable

**A/N: Wow, guys, you have no idea how nice it was to wake up to all those kind reviews this morning. Or afternoon, I guess? As such, I wasted absolutely no time pounding this next one out. I own nothing, although I wouldn't mind having Wesker tied up in my closet xD I would like to dedicate this story to my beautiful friend Erin, the Claire to my Wesker, the Piers to my Chris, you pick it. I love you, baby girl. **

Inevitable:

If asked, I would have never thought that I would end up spending my night sitting on a worn leather couch beside a girl I barely knew, cradling a cup of coffee I barely touched.

And yet, here I am.

Claire hasn't said much since we got into the house, expect to ask what I wanted in my coffee. She is sitting with her knees pulled into her chest and her eyes fixated on the picture that hands above the fire. It's an oversized family portrait, the four Redfields staring back at her with goofy smiles, arms all slung around each other.

"I'm sorry I'm not much of a host," Claire mutters, taking a lengthy sip of the wine she is holding. It's her third or so glass, and I notice the slight slur to her words.

I want to tell her to stop apologizing to me for everything, but decide that in her current state of emotion it is probably an unwise decision. So instead, I take a small sip of my own steaming liquid and simply shrug. "I'm not much company, either."

Claire looks up at me through her lashes and tries to smile, but there are still tears in the corners of her eyes, and it's the most forced smile I've ever seen. "It's fine," she replies. "It's…better than being alone, anyway."

I could debate that particular statement with her all night long, but decide to stay quiet. A moment later, Claire suddenly shifts so that she is leaning over towards me, a bit of the red wine sloshing over the rim of her glass. I tense up, swallowing hard and retreating as far back into the couch as I can. But there is nowhere for me to go, really, and Claire is giving me this heavy stare, her blue eyes glinting in the darkness.

"You're really pretty," Claire slurs, smiling sloppily at me. She downs the rest of the wine in a single gulp and all but throws the glass down onto the carpet, the few drops leftover spilling and staining the floor.

The girl is drunker than I thought.

By the time I realize where this is inevitably heading, it is too late for me to escape. Claire has crawled over to me, holding herself up as she hovers over me, and before I can speak or push her away or try to make a run for the door, she has lowered herself onto my chest and is kissing me.

Every part of me knows I should be resisting her. I should be pushing her away and seeing myself out the door, because this is the sister of one of my men, and because I don't have time in my day for such trifle affairs, and because she has no idea the nature of the man she is now straddling.

But the honest truth is that I'm exhausted, and I've been running nonstop between STARS and Umbrella, and it's been so long since I've had any real human contact that I've almost forgotten how nice it can feel.

So instead of shoving her off, I grab her roughly around the waist and pull her closer. I begin to respond to the way her lips are working against my own, and with ease I take complete control of the kiss. It's drunken and messy, but still her little breaths feel nice against me, and her hands are tangled in my hair as our tongues meet in a battle for dominance. I win with ease.

The distraction she offers me is pleasant, at least, a refreshing break from the constant stress that has become my life. Claire has moved her hands to my chest and is now working hard to undo the buttons there. I glance over her shoulder at the door, realizing that at any given moment her brother could come waltzing in, and I doubt the first sight he'd want to see is his little sister with her legs wrapped around his boss.

"Bed?" I manage to get out, amidst the slew of kisses she has been planting on my mouth and down my neck. Claire pulls away enough to nod, and in an instant I have her up in my arms. She directs me through the house, all the while licking and kissing at the exposed skin of my chest while I cradle her against me.

Her room is small, done up in white and red, and still holds a bit of childish innocence to it. I notice little but the bed itself, and the photograph on the nightstand of Claire herself in a tight hug with her brother. I have overheard Christopher speak of her on an occasion or two, but being here in their home makes me realize how very close they actually are. Which makes the fact that I now have her pinned beneath me on the mattress that much worse.

But I'm not stopping, not now that Claire has pulled her own shirt over her head, tossing it aside onto the floor. She is wearing this lacy little bra, the bright red color standing out against her smooth, alabaster skin. I trail my hands over every inch of her body as we slide out of the rest of our clothes.

There are a million and one reasons I should not be here, with her, like this.

I am ignoring every one of them. This release, this feeling of flesh brushing against flesh under the cover of soft sheets, is something I have nearly forgotten. But I cannot ignore it now, and I cannot resist it any longer. I need this, need her, need this escape from the reality of my world.

When I thrust into her, Claire makes this little gasping sound in the back of her throat. I groan, kissing her across her collarbone, her shoulders, her chest. She tightens around me more and more with every passing moment, her nails digging into my back as I press my body into hers.

"Oh, god," she whispers, head falling back against the pillow in pure ecstasy. "Oh, Wesker…"

Hearing my name fall from her plush lips was enough to push me over the edge. I collapsed into her as I finished, panting as my head rested on her chest. I was completely still, completely at peace while she ran her fingertips gently over my skin. For that single, perfect moment, nothing mattered, not STARS and not Umbrella and not anything at all.

It was in that moment, I finally found sleep.


	4. Reality

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for the continued support and all that. Ps, I can see you, silent readers. I appreciate you guys too, even if you don't leave a review or anything. Also, I wanted to pause and say that I am now operating a new Resident Evil roleplay, and we are recruiting. If you have any interest, message me lovelies. And enjoy this next installment. **

Reality:

There is no feeling quite the same as waking up from a bliss-induced sleep. When my eyelids flutter open, there is this feeling of great peace that washes over me. It feels like I've been without sleep for ages, and I finally managed to catch up on all of it. There is a slight smirk tugging at my lips, and the sun is filtering in the window. And there is a softly sleeping form with her hair all strewn across my chest, her little breaths teasing my neck.

Hang on.

There's a girl. Sleeping on top of me. I glance down and see Claire, her head resting on the crook of my shoulder as she sleeps. For a moment, it's the most beautiful sight I have ever seen, this girl so totally at ease even though her naked form is all entangled with a total stranger.

Hang on.

There's a _girl_, and not just any girl, but it has to be Claire Redfield. And she's sleeping on my chest, and we're both naked, and…oh dear God, what have I done?

A pang of anxiety ringing in my chest, I scoot away from her, and in doing so manage to fall right off the edge of the bed. A low grunt escapes my throat as I hit the carpet with a thud. Claire doesn't even move, doesn't even shift positions in the bed.

I begin looking around for my clothes, which have somehow wound up in every corner of the bedroom. It's a miracle I haven't started hyperventilating yet, as the reality of the situation sets in. I slept with Claire Redfield. Who was incredibly intoxicated. Whose brother works for me. To boot, I didn't get shit done for _either_ of my jobs. I scramble to pull my pants on and start buttoning my shirt back up.

In the process, my hand collides with the lamp on the nightstand, which goes crashing onto the floor. I literally cringe at the noise; I swear it's the loudest sound I've ever heard in my life. But Claire is still sleeping soundly, and after a few prolonged seconds I allow myself to breathe once again.

Until I hear the footsteps padding down the hall. "Claire?" Knock knock. "Claire, everything okay in there?"

Well, shit. Chris is knocking on the door, and my shirt is half undone, and Claire's bare back is exposed amidst the tangled sheets of her bed. This does not bode well for me.

In a moment of utter desperation, I rush over to the window, fumbling with the locks and pushing it up. The scraping sounds seem ten times louder to me than they probably are.

"Claire?" Chris calls again. I hoist a leg over the window sill and get ready to jump down. Just as I hit the ground, I hear the door open, followed by a girlish scream.

"Chris, what the hell?! Get out!" That's Claire. I can just imagine her, clutching her blankets to her body as she glares at her brother. I remain pressed against the house, hoping that no one passes by, because I cant imagine this looks particularly normal. I finish buttoning up my shirt, straining to hear what is happening in the room above me.

"Sorry, Claire," Chris is saying, a bit of embarrassment in the words. "I just…heard a noise and wanted to make sure it wasn't a break in."

Claire hasn't said anything else though. I feel something building in my chest, something that feels oddly like guilt. I ignore it as best I can.

Before I can make another move, my phone is suddenly going off in my pocket. Cursing under my breath, I fish it out and flip it open. "Wesker," I growl into the receiver.

"Al, I have some amazing news!" A cheerful voice spills forth from the other line. I recognize it immediately as none other than William Birkin, my research partner at the Umbrella labs. There is an undeniable giddiness in his words, and I feel my heart skip a beat. Amazing news from Birkin could only mean one thing, and that was a breakthrough with the study.

"What is it?" I demand. I have started walking across the street to the place where my car is, fighting off the urge to look back, look up, see if perhaps Claire was watching me go.

"Sherry has learned how to tie her shoes!" Birkin chirps. It takes everything in me not to throw the phone down onto the concrete and shatter it. _That_ is his amazing news? That his daughter is beginning to function as a normal human being?

"Congratulations," I drawl, in the most sarcastic tone possible. I have got bigger problems and things on my mind than the weekly update on his daughter's growth. Still, Birkin is my best friend, I suppose, and I should at least be somewhat supportive of him. He is almost as ambitious as myself and is still able to balance a family life in there. Impressive, really.

Perhaps I'm just jealous.

When I reach my car, I dig for my keys and unlock the door. "Why weren't you at the lab last night, Al?" William asks then, as I am climbing into the driver's seat. I should have known this was coming. It's the reality of my life, of my precarious world that I must work so hard to keep together. Everyone expects everything from me.

"I got caught up in some business at the precinct," I reply with ease, pushing the key into the ignition and flipping it over. It isn't entirely a lie. I just left out the majority of the details.

William is silent for a few moments, which I use to pull out a cigarette and light it up. "Well, I'll see you tonight," he replies at last. I guess that's the closest thing to goodbye I am going to get, for a moment later the line goes dead. In normal circumstance, I would probably be upset that he hung up on me, but in the moment I am happy. I need to hurry home so that I can shower and change, before the routine of my life begins all over again.

It's the reality of it all. Albert Wesker cannot catch a break.

As I switch the car into drive, I risk one last glance up at Claire's window. I am not expecting to see her there, her thin form silhouetted in the window frame, gripping the woodwork as her blue eyes stare down at me. I can almost see them glowing from all the way down here, searing into me with a thousand questions and demands.

I tear my gaze away from her and begin to drive, hoping I will able to push this whole ordeal from my memory. I have work to get done. I have obligations, jobs to do, people depending on me.

Claire Redfield, no matter how wistfully breathtaking she may look in that moment, does not fit into the equation.


	5. Dangerous

**A/N: Hello, babies! I would just like to thank you all for you continued support on this story. I'm trying my bestest to keep updating daily, but I do have to do real life things every now and then. Also, how would you guys feel about me doing something more centered on Wesker and Birkin? Send me some reviews so I know I'm keeping you guys interested. Mwah! **

Dangerous:

Another reason I hate paperwork is that it gives my mind too much room to wander. With so much time to think, my head is spinning with all the chaos overtaking my life. It strays first to thoughts of Umbrella, and all the work that is no doubt awaiting me in the labs.

And then there's William, who is probably more pissed at me than he let on in our brief conversation. I promised him when I got assigned this STARS thing that I wouldn't allow it to interfere with our real work. Yet that is exactly what I've been doing. And, if I'm being honest, I almost kind of miss the guy, even if he is a huge pain in my ass most of the time. He's the closest thing to a friend I've got, and even I can realize the value of this.

As expected, my thoughts slowly drift to Claire instead. Every time I close my eyes, I am plagued with memories of our night together, of how wonderful she felt pressed against me, and how peaceful she looked sleeping soundly beside me. It is a feeling I'm afraid I could get used to, and that is a dangerous notion indeed.

I try to block her out, reading over some warrant requests and a report of a vehicular manslaughter downtown. The driver had been intoxicated, the victim killed on impact. Raccoon City is going to Hell in a hand-basket faster than I can blink. I'm sure people are starting to worry, and wonder, and I fear it is only a matter of time until Umbrella takes the fall for it.

I have just managed to get into the lull of my mindless tasks when suddenly someone is looming over me. I expect it to be Irons or maybe one of the STARS members, coming to bother me about something since they cannot seem to function without me. Normally this kind of power would enthrall me, but today I am quite content to hole up in my office and fight off the ever-present fantasies of a one Miss Redfield.

If he wasn't so beautiful, or so graceful, I would be able to let her go with ease. But the fact is that she's been eating away at my mind since the moment I left her room this morning. I'm practically shivering as I recall her hands all over me, and her body all-

"What the hell?!"

Oh, right. I forgot all about the person now glaring at me from across my desk. Her hands are balled into little fists, her cheeks flushed as she scowls down at me. Of course it would be Claire. Of course. That's just the way my luck seems to be going anymore.

"Claire," I murmur, my gaze flickering to the open door. "I implore you, keep your voice down, please."

If she has heard me at all, she gives me no indication. "You just _left_?" She cries. Her knuckles are white and her lips are parted, and she looks dangerously beautiful and enticing in every way.

"Well, I didn't have much choice," I retort, forcing myself to look away from her. "It was either that or face one of my subordinates finding me in bed with his sister."

Claire is scowling at me, a look quite different than the one she had been giving me the night before. This is all her fault, really. If she hadn't jumped me, I wouldn't be in this situation. If she wasn't so stunning, I would have been able to resist her. If she didn't look like she was honestly upset with me, I wouldn't be so confused.

"I was under the impression it was a one night stand, Miss Redfield," I say simply.

"It was!" Claire snaps, turning away from me and crossing her arms. She is practically pouting; I don't know how to handle the display of emotions. I've never been in tune with my feelings, instead pushing them so far away they are out of sight.

"Then what are you-"

Doing here, I'm about to say, until I am interrupted by the deep voice of Chris Redfield. "Claire?" He says, clearly confused as to why his precious baby sister is fuming in my office.

"C-Chris!" She gasps, a blush rising to her cheeks as she spots her brother in the doorway. "I was just…asking the Captain where you were, and he was just-"

"Leaving," I cut her off. Already I am on my feet, gathering up my things. I need to get the hell out of this office, this room, away from this woman who has invited herself into my life. In twenty-four hours she has done more damage to my carefully constructed universe than people I have known forever. "I have a meeting to get to."

Both the Redfields eye me unsurely; both of their gazes hold very different questions. But I don't feel like answering to anyone at the moment, just getting away from this place for a while.

There is only one place for me to go.

…

I shrug out of my black coat, exchanging it for a long white lab jacket. It stands out brightly against my dark suit, which I just changed into. Something about wearing the STARS uniform here, in the lab, feels so wrong. Like I don't belong here when I'm in those clothes. And if I cant belong here at Umbrella then I truly have nowhere to go.

I make my way through the lab, muttering a greeting to the few people who even notice me. Most of the time, everyone is so caught up in their own work to really pay attention to the other researchers. At the last table in the lab, I finally stop, leaning against the clean metal surface. "Exciting day?" I murmur.

William jumps at the sound of my voice. "Albert, don't startle me like that," he scolds, but there is a glimmer in his baby blue eyes. "I could have spilled something."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, coming up beside him. "Alright, fill me in," I say, and Will is more than happy to comply. It's easy to slip back into the same routine, to fall into the rhythm of being in the lab.

No matter what happens, where I end up or whose bed I stumble into, this lab, this company is the only place I will ever belong.


	6. Unexpected

**A/N: I've come to accept that the only time I am able to work on this is at three am. Maybe it's just my inner Wesker waking up at his desk, trying to figure out where the hell he is. Poor baby. Anyway, I've been really enjoying writing this story, even though the word prompts tend to drive me insane. Looking forward to more reviews from all the wonderful people taking time to read this. **

Unexpected:

"I slept with someone."

The words slip out of my mouth of their own accord, without any conscious effort on my part. I am leaning against the cold metal lab table, trying and failing to read over the lab notes William has been keeping in my absence. I need to get caught up on the study, but it's hard some days to keep STARS and Umbrella separate in my mind.

William turns to look at me slowly, more like a stolen glance from the corner of his eye. "Oh," is all he says. Not in a way that asks for more information, not in a way that expresses any sort of interest. Just an indifferent comment to assure that he heard me at all.

I frown slightly. I had been expecting something more…I don't know. More of a reaction, really. "Oh?" I repeat, my own voice holding an accusing tone. "You're my best friend. I expected at least some interest from you."

Will keeps his gaze trained on his work. "You're never around anymore," he comments, a biting edge to his words. "I mean, Al, I know you were assigned this whole STARS thing, but…" He trails off. I can only imagine what he is thinking. It's the same thing I've been fearing myself. Yes, STARS was founded with the sole purpose of being destroyed by Umbrella. But in the meantime, I've had to keep up this whole façade, and it has been taking away from my actual job.

"What's her name?" Will asks then, but he still isn't looking up at me. I notice his hands shaking slightly as he jots down something on the pad of paper before him.

"Claire," I murmur. Her name is like honey, sticky on my lips.

William gives a low grunt. "Enjoy that, did you?"

I realize Will is being sarcastic and turn my back on him, focusing my attention back on the notes, and neither of us say anything more on the subject.

…

The drive to my apartment seems twice as long. I chain-smoke the whole way back from the labs, too, until my throat is raw and sore. I've tried and tried to rationalize William's behavior, but I just cant seem to figure it out.

Anyway, I'm exhausted and I don't feel like analyzing the situation anymore. I can only mull over it so many times before I have to accept the fact that my best friend and I are drifting apart. I want to be angry, at him, at STARS, at Umbrella. Mostly at myself for not realizing that I was letting things get this out of control. But the fact of the matter is, I'm too tired to feel much of anything.

Home is a small house on the edge of town. It's nothing much, but it's good enough for me. It's not as though I'm actually ever home anymore. Slamming the car door shut, I take the necessary steps to my front door. Maybe it's just because it's dark, or perhaps it's the racing thoughts that are plaguing my mind. Either way, I don't realize there is a person sitting on my front porch until I am literally tripping over them.

"Christ," I snap, just barely able to catch myself before I am falling headfirst into the door.

"No, just me," a small voice calls out. I turn around to see none other than Claire, smoothing out her shirt as she stands. Her blue eyes are looking anywhere but at me. Even though it's nearly pitch black I can see the slight blush rising to her cheeks.

I stare at her for a long time before I realize she is waiting for me to speak. "What are you doing here?" I say, since it's the only question on my mind.

Claire crosses her arms tightly over her chest. "I don't know, honestly."

Great. Really great.

Well, I decide there's no reason for me to stay out here while she figures it out. I'm tired, I'm cranky, and I'm not in the mood for company. "How did you even find my house?" I mutter, moving past her and sliding my key into the lock.

"The STARS files," Claire admits, tugging on the end of her long red pony tail. Dammit, why did she have to be so fucking tantalizing? Why did she have to be so innocent and charming and completely off limits?

Why did I have to want to drag her into the house and claim her all over again?

"Very nice, stealing the address of the captain so you can sneak to his house in the middle of the night," I say lowly. My door unlocks and I push it open, stepping over the threshold. Claire just stands there, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. I stifle a groan. I cant believe this is happening. "Come on," I call, holding the door open.

A shadow of a smile crosses her lips. She follows me into the house.

This cannot end well for me.

Taking off my coat, I hang it up and set my keys down on the kitchen counter. Claire is trailing behind me like a lost puppy, probably still trying to figure out why she came here in the first place.

"You show up unexpected at the homes of all your one night stands?" I muse, going to the fridge to pull out a water bottle. Seeing her blue eyes lingering on it, I pass it over and grab a second one for myself.

"No!" Claire cries. She's flustered, which both amuses and surprises me. Claire hadn't struck me as the type of girl to be easily flustered. Then again, I don't really know her at all. But from what I have gathered, she is tough; she can hold her own. Certainly she doesn't seem the kind of girl to trip and fall over a dark and mysterious stranger. But if she is anything like her brother, perhaps it is the element of danger that attracted her in the first place. "I mean, I don't usually have a lot of one night stands."

Cracking the cap of the bottle, I eye her up from behind my dark glasses. "Well don't I feel special," I grumble. I realize I am being a completely inhospitable jackass, but can't bring myself to care. After all, she's the one who showed up at my house, when all I wanted to do was get a solid night's sleep.

Claire slams her water down on the table with a soft thud, she narrows her eyes and takes a step towards me. As if the captain of the most elite team in Raccoon City is really threatened by a college kid that cant weigh more than a hundred pounds. "I didn't mean for that to happen," she snaps. The harsh edge to her tone is driving me crazy. This is much more how I imagined her acting. "I was drunk, and I don't even remember how we wound up in bed."

"You crawled into my lap, told me I was pretty, and began undoing my clothes," I remind her. Seeing the anger that flares up in her face, I am unable to fight off a devious smirk. I'm also struggling to ignore the stirring in the pit of my stomach. However cliché it is, she's quite attractive when she's angry.

"You are such an arrogant, insensitive-"

With each word, Claire has been stepping closer to me, her hands balled into fists and her bright eyes narrowed at me. When she is within reaching distance, I make the snap decision to shut off every voice in my head and pull her against my chest. Our lips collide in an explosion of passion and fury, the kiss fueled by both our inner frustrations. I lose myself in the moment, the feeling of her body crushed to my own. In that moment, I just am, and as unexpected as the sensation is, it feels wonderful.


	7. Unavoidable

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this one down on paper. I actually had to sleep last night. As always, thanks for the reviews. Keep them coming, babies! The more reviews I get, the more motivated I stay. All my love, always. **

Unavoidable:

"What the hell was that for?" The redhead pushes me away, lips parted and gleaming from the wetness of the kiss. Her chest is rising and falling with her short gasps for breath, and there is a fire in her blue eyes. It's contagious, that look of madness she is wearing, just for me.

I shrug, turning away and running a hand through my slicked back hair. "Sorry," I drawl in a tone that assures her I am anything _but_ sorry. "You were insulting me. I found it incredibly sexy."

Claire looks utterly appalled at me. Eyes glaring, lips turned down, cheeks flushed. She's beautiful. I know I shouldn't think that, but I do. "If my brother knew about this-"

"Yes, dear Miss Redfield," I cut her off. "If your brother knew you had shown up at his boss' house in the middle of the night, what _would_ he say?"

To that, her only reply is a small noise in the back of her throat and her arms crossing in front of her. I pay no mind to her childish pose, turning away instead to grab my water and retreat into the living room. I don't care to look if she is following or not.

She does, trailing right on my heels. I'm quickly losing hope of any sleep or relaxation this night.

Stopping in my tracks, I spin round so suddenly that Claire slams into my chest. A gasping noise escapes her lips as she looks up at me through her mascara-coated lashes. Instinct sends my hands to her waist, steadying her body before she loses her footing. The end result is me holding her against me, with her blue eyes staring up at me as I gaze back down at her.

"I think I hate you," she says, but her tone depicts anything other than hatred.

"That's fine," I reply, my lips curving up into a half-smirk. "Hate is fine. Plenty of passion behind hatred." We stay like that for a few moments longer, not speaking and yet seeming to have this entire conversation, where Claire keeps telling me how much she hates me, or at least _wants_ to hate me, and all I want to do is ravish her completely. The flames in her eyes are so contagious, sparking a fire within me too.

I'm not the least bit surprised when we end up in the bedroom.

…

"I still hate you," Claire murmurs later, when her body is draped over mine and her head is resting on my shoulder. Her voice is far off and drowsy, and every time she tries to keep her eyes open, I can feel her long lashes brushing my skin.

"It's okay, dear," I reply, my own voice heavy with exhaustion. I feel more at ease than I had been feeling all day, though. "Hate me all you want. You're still leaving here satisfied."

Claire gives me a playful shove and nuzzles in closer. I know I should be putting an end to this whole post-sex cuddling thing. That's when attachments form, when emotions start to take the place of raw lust. Sleeping together, in both senses of the phrase, two nights in a row is creeping into dangerous territory.

But I can't bring myself to tell her to leave. Whether it's because I'm just physically wiped out, or because there is some small part of me that doesn't actually _want _her to, I don't know. But in any case, I'm almost happy not to be spending the night alone. I've spent my fair share of nights alone, and it seems to get a little harder every time.

So I let her stay. And we fall asleep and tangled together with each other and the sheets. Before drifting into the nothing, I feel Claire press her lips gently to the corner of my mouth. I don't say anything, just smile in the darkness. The thought crosses my mind that perhaps I wont have to be so alone anymore. I try to push it out of my mind, but it's quite soothing, and as I fall asleep, I dream of the red-haired girl sleeping soundly beside me.

…

When I arrive at the station in the morning, there is an uncharacteristic smirk on my face. I had dropped Claire off at home on the way, knowing that Chris was already going to be gone. She thanked me for the ride, among other things, and stayed in the passenger seat for a moment too long before running into her house.

Usually I am given some greeting by the receptionist upon arrival, but today her desk is empty. In fact, no one seems to be around at all. My features quickly rearrange into a slight frown, as I hear the sound of laughter coming from the conference room. Pulling my black coat tighter around my skinny frame, I follow the sounds down the hall.

Sure enough, the entire STARS team is gathered there, as well as a few other staff members. They're all laughing and gathered closely around something, which I cant see from where I am. Crossing my arms, I clear my throat, causing a few of them to jump. It's Jill that whirls around to face me, a sheepish grin upon a face. "Captain, hi!" She says giddily. "We were just…I mean, we, uh…"

Before she can say another word, I hear the tiniest sneeze come from the middle of the circle. A blush creeping onto her cheeks, Jill turns into the group once more. The next time she faces me, she is cradling a small boy in her arms. He cant be more than four or five, with a mess of reddish hair and the biggest blue eyes I've ever seen.

A normal person would probably be admiring the child, fawning over how adorable he is in his oversized black shirt. Me, all I can think is that he's inevitably going to create a ton of paperwork for me. "Did someone just leave him here?" I ask, confusion in my voice. I knew things in Raccoon were getting out of control, but the idea that someone would just deposit their child on the steps of the precinct seemed out there, even to me.

Jill shifts the child to one arm, and with the other she grabs a letter off the table. "He came with this, Sir. I didn't open it. It's addressed to you…" She trailed off, handing me the sealed envelope. Sure enough, my name is scrawled across the front of it.

Curiosity gets the best of me, and I tear into it right there, never mind that my entire team is watching me while pretending they aren't watching me. I read it twice, a thousand emotions playing out over my face as the words sink into me.

_Albert, _

_If you're reading this, I'm already dead, I suppose. I've been sick for some time now, and my dying is unavoidable. My only regret is that I was never able to see you again. I think of you often and hope you are well, wherever you may be in life. I don't blame you for leaving, either. Again, our separation was unavoidable. Nevertheless, I am entrusting you to care for our child. He reminds me so much of you, Al. So brilliant and beautiful. I am sorry I never told you I was pregnant. I guess that's two regrets then. Just promise you will keep him safe, okay? _

_All my love, _

_Andrea_

I read the letter once more, feeling Jill's hand suddenly on my forearm. "You okay?" She asks quietly. I know the others are watching me too, but they're trying to act like they aren't. It's deadly quiet in the room.

"Fine," I manage at last, folding up the letter and shoving it into my pocket. I turn to leave the room, thankful they can't see the panic in my eyes, as they're hidden behind my glasses. "Keep the kid occupied, okay? I've got work to do."


	8. Responsibility

**A/N: I am so sorry this took so long. I'm currently running a Resident Evil roleplay on tumblr, playing both Wesker and Chris. So things get a little crazy. You guys can check it out if you want? We still have some characters open, actually. .com. Anywho, I'm gunna get right to work on the next chapter to make it up to you guys. Thanks very much to FashionFable for pointing out to me that I apparently cant post links in here. Five years, you'd think I'd know that by now. **

Responsibility:

Once I am safely behind the closed door of my office, I feel the panic start to set it. A kid? I had a _kid_?

I am having a difficult time wrapping my head around this whole situation. Which is weird for me, because I have always been so calculating and planning. Always one step ahead of everyone else. But this, this is something I am not prepared to deal with. Go undercover as a cop? Fine. Deal with the secrecy and pressure of Umbrella? Got it.

Raise a child?

No fucking way.

Still, I suppose I don't really have a choice in the matter. Gripping the edge of the desk, I try to steady my breathing as I steal a glance at the door. Thin, cheap wood is the only thing separating me from the child that is now my responsibility. A responsibility I have absolutely no idea how to handle.

Before I realize what I am doing, I'm reaching for the phone. I'm dialing numbers from memory, probably the only number I know by memory. The phone rings, one, two, three times- "Hello?" The voice on the other end is shaky, rushed and anxious.

"William," I say, not bothering to waste any time with a greeting. "William, there's a situation."

"What is it?" He asks immediately, his usually blank voice streaked with a hint of fear.

I'm pacing a little, stalling. _Stalling. _Me. And trying to find the right words to say, to explain this whole thing to him. And there's this voice in my head saying that if I cant even talk to my so-called best friend, then I really am all alone in this. I keep telling it to shut up, but it doesn't hear me over its own screaming.

"I think it would be better if you saw for yourself," I say at last, swallowing hard. "Come by my house tonight after you're done in the labs."

For some reason, I'm expecting him to argue. Say he has too much work to do, or that he has to do something with Sherry. Or maybe just that he doesn't feel like seeing me. Because lately, that's how it's been feeling. Instead, he murmurs a quick okay, and the line goes dead.

I stay still for a few moments longer, trying to get a grip on my hitched breathing and my racing thoughts. I can do this, I tell myself. I've always been able to handle everything life has thrown at me, and what's one more challenge? Sure, it wouldn't be easy, and more than likely not particularly fun. But most responsibilities in life are not enjoyable. Like my duty to carry on this façade here with STARS. A necessary evil. A means to an end.

Raising a child is no different.

Taking one last deep breath, I retreat from my office and head back out towards the others. While a few of them have departed to get a start on their own duties for the day, Jill is still sitting in the conference room. She's perched on the edge of the table, watching over the small boy. She must have given him some paper and pencils, because he is happily scribbling away.

Hearing me enter, Jill looks up and offers a slight smile. There is some element of concern in his eyes, like she has been trying to figure out how someone so cold and distant is going to manage to father a child. It's the same thing I've been trying to figure out myself.

Her smile is silently urging me to go on. I walk slowly towards the table, towards the child. Just before kneeling down at his side, I make the quick decision to remove my glasses, revealing my pale green eyes. I've always hated the way they seem to give away everything I'm feeling, every secret I hold. I hate that right now, they're overflowing with fear.

"Hello," I say quietly. "What's that you're drawing?"

The boy turns to me with a messy grin and holds up the paper. On it he has sketched two crude figures, a kid and a woman. "Me and Mommy," he says, pride dripping in the words. My heart is thudding so loudly I wouldn't be surprised if Jill can hear it.

I've never really been one to take to children. The one or two times I had agreed to watch Sherry had been some of the worst experiences of my life. And that was certainly saying something. An overwhelming panic is building up inside me, but when I start to shift back up to my feet, Jill clears her throat. I can feel her eyes trained on me, saying that I have to keep going. The fact that I am silently being ordered around by one of my subordinates should bother me, but the reality is that I have no idea what I'm doing right now.

Before I can speak again, the boy's small voice fills the air. "Mommy said that she had to go away for a while," he tells me. There's this innocence in the way he says this, one that damn near breaks my heart. I didn't even realize my heart had the capacity to be broken.

Clearing my throat, I reach out hesitantly to ruffle his hair. It's a tangled mess of reddish curls, framing his face and making his bright blue eyes seem to stand out even more. "Well, I'm going to take care of you now, okay?" I say, surprised at the gentle tone my voice has adapted. A slight frown creases my brow as another thought comes to mind. "What's your name, kid?"

The boy cocks his head to the side, giving another toothy smile. "Jake," he chirps eagerly. "What's your name?" He asks back.

I blink long and hard. Such a simple question, and yet I cant seem to find my voice at all. Hesitating, I reach out to pick the child- Jake- up into my arms. To my surprise, he wraps his small arms around my neck and nuzzles in closer to me. This strange feeling of protectiveness runs through me, as the full responsibility of this all sets in. Here, in my arms, is this helpless creature that is fully dependent on me to keep it safe.

"I guess, you can call me Dad."


	9. Adjusting

**A/N: Hello, all. So, I have taken some time to consider where I actually want this story to go, and I think I have a plot in mind. Yay for plots. Because I have been aimlessly writing with no idea where to take this. Anyway, I just bought the Umbrella and Darkside Chronicles, so that's happening now. Enjoy. Leave me some reviews, kay? Maybe some suggestions of things you want to see? I'll admit, writing about a small child from Wesker's POV has been an interesting adventure for me. **

Adjusting:

The day goes by much faster than I'd expected. As I make my phone calls and file my reports, Jake seems completely content to just sit at my desk and color. At the end of the day, I pack up my things, and Jake skips alongside me out of the precinct. Just as I'm leaving, Jill stops me, a genuine smile upon her lips. "You can do this," she says. I want to tell her that I don't believe I can, but I don't think I've ever admitted weakness in my life.

We make it out to my car, Jake eyeing it like he's never seen one before in his life. The realization hits me that I don't have a car seat. Does he need a car seat? I think he does, anyway. I begin to make a mental list of things I'm going to need to get. Car seat…food…what do small children even eat?

"Come on," I say to him, pushing the rest of the thoughts out of my head. Picking him up in my arms and setting him on one hip, I open the back door of my car and slide him in. "Sit tight, okay, kid?" I say gruffly, buckling the seatbelt across his chest. He just stares up at me with those wide blue eyes, but never says a word. I don't say anything either, just go around to the driver's side and pull out of the lot.

It doesn't take long to get to my house from the station. At least, it usually doesn't. But I feel like I'm in the car for ages. My mind has been racing nonstop since this morning, Jake, STARS, Umbrella, Claire…when did I get spread so thing? I'm going to have to make some serious adjustments to my life routine in order to cope with all of this. Who is going to watch Jake during the day when I'm at work? I'll need a bed for him, too, I suppose. And clothes.

These are all things I'm going to have to figure out, but right now I'm just trying to focus on the road.

At long last, we are pulling up to my house. I kill the engine, pausing for a moment to take a steadying breath. Jill's reassurance rings in my mind. I can do this. Of course I can. I don't think there's ever anything I _haven't_ been able to do. I have to keep focusing on that thought as I go around to the other side and pull Jake out of the seat, placing him on his feet on the pavement.

I'm caught off guard when he reaches up and grabs my hand, although it's really more like a finger, since his own grasp is so small. "I'm hungry," Jake tells me, as I'm putting the key into the door and turning the knob.

"Okay," I say levelly. I never really have food in the house, since the only time I seem to be here is when I'm sleeping so I usually just opt to go out. Still, I venture into kitchen and stare into the nearly empty fridge. There's a half empty container of milk and some cheese, but definitely nothing to provide a substantial meal to the kid.

I feel a slight tugging at my shirt, and turn to see Jake looking up at me. In some ways, he looks helpless, but he has this defiant look in his eyes. And he is so small. The only child I've really been around is Sherry, and she's hardly even a child anymore.

"Hey…daddy?" He asks, blue eyes wide, his mouth not seeming to want to form the word. "How long is Mommy going to be away for?"

I open my mouth but find I have nothing to say. When I hear a knock at the door, I couldn't be happier to get away from that conversation. The clock on the stove says that it's going on six. A slight frown creases my brow. I hadn't been expecting William yet, as he usually doesn't leave the labs until he absolutely has to.

Going to the door, I pull it open, and am fully surprised when I see not Will, but Claire.

"Oh," I say simply, the single word void of any emotion. "Hello, Miss Redfield."

Claire twists her mouth into a small smile, but there is a shadow of fear in her gaze. "I should have called," she blurts, tugging at her ponytail. She does this when she's nervous, I've noticed, in the same way I am constantly slicking back my hair. Everyone has something they do, I suppose, some little subconscious trait they do to try and calm themselves down.

After all, we're only human.

"It's fine," I assure her, stepping aside and motioning for her to come in. Claire gives a shaky laugh, but steps into my house. "What are you doing here?" I ask her then, as I'm closing the door. It's not that I mind seeing her, exactly. It's just that, from what I can tell, the extent of our relationship has been a few nights of shared passion, and for her to show up at my house when the sun is still shining has sort of caught me off guard.

Claire opens her mouth to reply, but before she can, Jake comes barreling into the foyer. "Daddy, I'm hungry!" He pouts, going so far as to stamp his foot on the ground. From behind my dark glasses, I shift my stare from him to Claire, seeing a slow smile spread onto her innocent face. I don't know why I was expecting her to freak out or something, but I find myself letting out a slow breath of relief.

The redhead drops to her knees in front of him. "Hi there," she greets, her voice going up an octave or two. "My name is Claire. Who are you?"

The child gives her a toothy grin. "Jake," he says happily. I watch from a few paces away as their blue eyes lock, both so young and full of innocence. A feeling I cant quite name passes through me. I've never been one for emotions, seeing them as an obstacle to achieving a goal. But standing there, watching Claire and Jake exchange a single look, I feel something oddly similar to serenity.

It is something I haven't felt in a long time.

Claire straightens up and comes over to me, her hand finding its way to my forearm. "I didn't know you had a son," she says softly.

"Neither did I," I blurt without thinking. I can sense that Claire is studying me, searching my unreadable face for something, although I cant seem to figure out what it is. Either way, she isn't going to find it there.

"Look," I say then, running my fingers through my hair. Nervous habits. Then, I do something I don't think I have ever done before in my entire thirty-six years. Staring right into her crystalline eyes, I swallow hard and say, "I think I need help."


	10. Questions

**A/N: Wow, this chapter was way longer than I expected. And I stayed up extra late to make sure I finished it, because I love you guys so much. Okay, I'd love to say more, but I need to sleep now, oh my goodness. Leave me some nice reviews? Kisses xx**

Questions:

I take a long drag off the cigarette between my fingers, exhaling the smoke and watching it twist off into the blackness of the sky. The stars are blotted out by the dull glow of the city, polluting the night with a soft orange glow. From where I sit on the front step of my house, I focus only on the smoke that's searing the back of my throat, instead of the thoughts clawing the back of my mind.

Claire is at my side, leaning forward so that her elbows are propped on her knees. It's only half past ten, but this whole day has seemed to drag on forever. With the redhead's help, I managed to procure a bed and some clothes for Jake, as well as an appropriate amount of food. "Thanks for everything," I say absently, without much conviction behind the words. It's not that I don't appreciate her assistance or anything; it's simply that this whole day has completely wiped me out. I haven't even started my reports for Irons, and Will expects me to review some data he sent me.

"No problem," Claire replies lightly, shifting her position so that she is leaning back onto the palms of her hands instead. Her blue eyes are staring out into the vacant street, but I can tell that they aren't even seeing it. She seems to be miles away, lost in some train of thought. I don't have the energy to push her just then, instead flicking excess ash off the tip of my cigarette.

She turns to look at me, but I keep my eyes trained up at the sky. "You didn't tell me you have a son," she says then. Not in an accusing way or anything, just stating a fact. I think about pointing out that I haven't actually told her anything about myself, but don't want to instigate any questions. Because chances are I wont be able to answer them, at least not honestly, and for some reason I don't exactly want to lie to her if I don't have to.

"I didn't know about him," I mutter lowly, tossing the burnt out butt into the grass. I can feel Claire still watching me, silently urging me to go on. I don't exactly want to get into it right now, but I know she isn't going to leave here without at least some kind of answer. "It was a one night thing when I was on a business trip."

I have to watch what I say or I'll end up saying too much. Claire just has this way about her that makes it so easy for me to tell her things, and while I find that quality of hers almost charming, it can be dangerous too. I have a lot riding on my ability to keep up this façade, and I don't need anything getting in the way. Especially some girl that I don't even know, that I never should have allowed myself to get involved with to begin.

Claire reaches out to place a hand on my forearm, and when I turn to look at her at last she catches me off guard by stealing a kiss. Making a small sound in the back of my throat, I grip her chin gently to hold her in place against me. Whenever I have her this close to me, I seem to forget about everything else. It's a realization that both comforts and scares me. It's the realization that somewhere in side me, some small part of me has grown attached to her. And I know this means nothing but pain and heartache for both of us, but I can never seem to make myself stop.

This time I don't even have to try, because it's the sound of a car door that makes us break apart. _Shit_, I curse inwardly, eyeing the silver sedan that has taken up residence in front of my house. A familiar blonde is approaching, his eyes staring at his shoes as if he's worried he will trip over his own feet. Which, in all honesty, is quite possible consider he probably hasn't slept in a few days. I rise to my feet quickly, and Claire follows suit.

William looks up as he stops before me. My assumption must be right, because he has incredibly dark circles and bags under his eyes. "Let me just say, Al, if I never have to see another le-"

"Will," I say sharply, glancing at Claire as my heart skips a beat. Damn him and his lack of awareness. "This is the woman I was telling you about earlier, Miss Redfield."

William literally takes a step back, his own bright eyes trailing over her body. "Oh," he replies simply, but I can sense the irritation he is holding back. Still, he manages to smile. "Pleased to meet you," he says in the most formal tone I've ever heard. When Claire hesitantly holds out a hand, he looks at it as though she might attack him.

"Forgive him," I say quickly, scowling at Will before giving Claire my full attention. "He doesn't sleep much."

Claire makes a small humming noise, nodding slowly. "I should get going anyway," she tells me then. "Chris will be done with patrol soon, and he'll freak out if I'm not home." She hesitates for a moment, gazing up expectantly. I know what she wants, but I cant give it to her. Not with Will watching me, his blue eyes teeming with silently passed judgment.

The redheaded girl realizes this, and gives me a slight nod. I watch in silence as she turns away and disappears down the sidewalk, getting into her car. Neither of us say another word until he has started the car and driven off.

"You didn't tell me she was half your age, Al," William murmurs, coming to stand beside me.

I shoot him a sidelong glance, absently smoothing out my long black coat. "I didn't think her age was of any importance," I snap back. "Anyway, Claire doesn't matter." Even as I say this, the words taste wrong on my tongue. I ignore the lingering feeling and move to the door, holding it open so that William can enter my house.

"So what is this urgent matter, then?" The younger blonde asks, clearly dropping the issue of Claire for now, as we cross the threshold into my house.

I lock the door behind us and let out a long breath. "Well, it's complicated," I say vaguely. When Will only gives me a questioning look, I beckon for him to follow me. I lead him down the hall, to the room where Jake is now sleeping. Quietly pushing open the door, I reveal to him the small child, tucked into bed and illuminated by the soft gleam of his nightlight.

"Al…what the hell is going on?"

I close the door with a quiet click and turn to face him full on. "Remember that one trip Spencer sent us on to Edonia?" I ask him. Will nods, then frowns, then his eyes get wide as the pieces click together in his mind. A bit slower than they probably would have if he had slept in the past month. For being a genius, Will could be one of the most simple-minded people I had ever met.

"Are you telling me, that while we were doing official Umbrella business, you were doing-"

"_Yes_, Will. You don't need to go on about it." Going into the kitchen, I open the fridge and idly scan all the things that now fill it up. Claire had organized it for me so that everything would be easy to find. In the end, I only grab a bottle of water. "Anyway, the point is, it seems she passed away, and Jake is going to be staying here." I wonder if I'm supposed to feel some emotion about the whole thing, but right now all I seem to feel is tiredness.

The younger man comes over to me, leaning against the kitchen counter and sighing. "It's a big responsibility, you know, and you're already stretched so thin between Umbrella and this whole STARS catastrophe."

"That _catastrophe_, as you call it, is going to pay off when the time comes," I remind him, cracking the cap off the bottle and taking a sip. The cool, clear liquid soothes my throat on its way down. "And I hardly think you are in the position to lecture me about parenting. God knows you spend more time in the lab than with your own daughter."

William glares at me, moving away a few steps. "I didn't come here to be patronized," he says stiffly. "So if that's all you wanted, I think I'll take my leave."

Fighting off a groan, I run a hand through my hair. It's started to come loose, and there are a few stray strands falling down into my face, which I try to push back. "Will, come on. I didn't mean it like that. I'm just…I don't know, I'm stressed as hell, Irons is working me half to death, and I'm falling behind in my work for Spencer. How the hell am I going to fit a child into all that?" Not to mention whatever the hell has been going on with Claire, but I definitely don't want to bring that up to him again.

The blonde moves towards me, gripping my shoulder in his hand. "You'll find a way, Al," he tells me gently. "You always do. You're the strongest person I know."

His sentiment catches me off guard, and I have to force myself to shrug away from his touch. Between him and Claire, I'm not sure what to do with all of these emotions. I've spent most of my life walling myself off from anything that could make me weak.

Sighing, I reach out to give him a playful shove. "Get some sleep, Will. And please be careful driving home. I don't need to get a call from the station because of some massive pile up."

He rolls his big blue eyes at me, but after saying our goodbyes, he heads out. I make my way down the hall to my room, and the only thought on my mind is that my bed has never looked so comfortable.


	11. Comfortable

**A/N: I am so, so sorry for the delay. I've been working on the Valentine's Day stuff, and my computer keyboard decided to die. Anyway, I hope you guys don't hate me too much. We're about to get into the fun stuff now. And just when things were going so well for Wesker… poor baby. How I love him so. I own nothing, of course. And now I'm off to play some RE4. **

Comfortable:

It's funny how time slips by so easily, days shifting into weeks without people even noticing. And they just fall into a routine, a pattern of behavior, waking up and going through each moment, each day, without even realizing they have passed.

It doesn't take long for me to adjust to my new life style, finding a way to adapt to the sudden and drastic changes that have occurred. It is animalistic instinct, changing to new surroundings, learning how to persevere, how to survive. And so I did, because I had no other choice.

Soon spring fades into the heat of summer, and it doesn't take much effort on my part to get Claire to agree to babysit Jake while I am at the office. If I'm being totally honest with myself, I don't mind coming home to the two of them. Claire prepares dinner for us and stays for the meal almost every night. Afterwards, we sit together and read stories to Jake until he falls asleep. He's quite a good artist, and the door of my refrigerator is covered in his drawings.

As for Umbrella, my time spent at the lab cuts back drastically. As William and his research team get closer to finishing their projects, I find that I am not really needed. Anyway, I'm supposed to be investing all my energy into keeping up the STARS façade, earning the trust and commitment of my team before I lead them all to their death. Lately I've been trying not to think about that too much.

The familiar routine becomes comfortable to me. I find a sense of peace in coming home to a prepared dinner and the smiling face of Claire. Of tucking my child into bed and then stealing the redheaded girl away to my room and pulling her down into the sheets. Of waking up with the sun and having a sleepy smile greet me, a farewell kiss before running out the door to work.

For the first time in all my thirty-six years, I feel at ease in my own life. I feel like I am doing things for me, instead of being told what to do by a corporation.

"What has you all smiley?" Claire asks me from where she is sitting atop the kitchen counter. She is wearing one of my STARS tee shirts, and only that, showing off her long toned legs. She really is quite beautiful. I remember the first night I drove her home, when she broke down crying in my car, and then dragged me to her bed. I never would have thought that two months later she would be drinking coffee with me on a Saturday morning.

"You," I reply, going to where she sits. I place a hand on both of her knees, parting them so that I can stand between them. "You enthrall me, Miss Redfield."

Claire rolls her eyes at him. "And you flatter me," she replies sarcastically, latching legs tightly around my waist. I place my hands atop the counter on either side of her waist, hovering mere inches away from her lips. Claire's breathing hitches for a moment, her gaze flickering from my own pale green eyes to my mouth, then back up so we are locked in a stare.

I have never really considered myself the type to fall in love, especially not so easily. I mean, I've gone for years and years without ever depending on anyone, ever needing someone else. Emotional attachments only create weakness. But more and more I have found it impossible to deny my feelings for the girl. I should hate her for it, but I cant. I should be pushing her away, rebuilding the walls I have kept around me for so long. But I cant.

Her expression suddenly shifts, something much darker and deeper clouding her usually bright eyes. I've seen this look overcome her more than once in the past few weeks, and I know all too well what thoughts are clouding her mind. It's something we have both been dancing around, both been trying to pretend we wont eventually have to address.

"You still haven't told Christopher," I murmur, pulling away as much as I can with her legs still locking me there. Claire senses the motion and releases her grip, instead pulling them into her chest so that her knees are resting below her chin. She shakes her head sharply, and I swear I see tears welling up in her eyes. I've never handled these kinds of emotions before and I don't know what to do with them.

"How can I?" Claire replies. Her voice is the most fragile thing I have ever heard in my life, like a thin sheet of ice that has just started to crack under the pressing weight of the world. "You're his boss, Albert. And I'm his baby sister. He wouldn't understand, wouldn't be able to see that I lo-"

Claire cuts herself off immediately, her teeth making an audible sound as she snaps her mouth shut. A blush rising rapidly to her cheeks, she buries her face in her knees, hiding herself away from me.

I myself feel this overwhelming sense of longing, building up in both my chest and the pit of my stomach. This immaculate, beautiful creature has somehow managed to fall for me, with all my darkness and my mystery and my closed off ways. I should be fighting this. I should not want this. In a year, I am planning on the demise of her brother, her friends. I should be sending her as far away as possible.

And yet, I am going over to her, running my fingers through her soft hair. It's down this morning, hanging about her face. Presently it's forming a curtain to shield her from me, so I begin tucking the strands back behind her ears until I can see her face. "Look at me, sweetheart," I say softly, trailing a fingertip over her cheekbone.

After a moment of hesitation, Claire raises her head to look at me. My chest tightens as I see the tears streaking down her face, angry red lines slicing through the alabaster shade of her skin. "Don't cry," I tell her, my thumb going to wipe the droplets away. I offer a smile, and she slowly returns it.

I open my mouth, and I swear I am about to utter those three irrevocable words to her, the ones that would forever change everything, destroy everything about myself that I have ever known, when my phone begins to ring.

Giving Claire an apologetic look, I yank it from my pocket and flip it open so violently I'm surprised it doesn't break. "What?" I bark into it.

"Al, it's Will." He sounds frantic, desperate. "We have a problem. I need you here."


	12. Disaster

**A/N: Woot, it's finally done. I happen to really like this chapter, but it may just be because I love Will so much it hurts. He like a little innocent child, and I just want to hug him all the time. Gah. Okay, anyway, I don't own Resident Evil. I mean, I do own it, but just the game. Hah. I try to be funny and I fail terribly. I'll shut up now. **

Disaster:

"Where are you going?" Claire demands, watching me shrug into my long black coat. She is right on my heels, following me to the door as I grab my keys. I don't know if she can sense my panic, but I have a feeling it's written all over my face. Will had sounded completely desperate on the phone, and I have a feeling this is going to be a disaster.

"I've got some business to take care of," I say simply, because I don't have time to come up with some clever excuse. "I need you to stay here and take care of Jake."

Claire lets out a little groan, and I feel her hands grabbing my shoulders roughly, trying to hold me in place. "Albert, talk to me!" She cries. "What's going on that you cant tell me?"

I knew that eventually my secret life was going to catch up with me, that the lies I have spun would start to untangle. Right now, I cant start to wind the string back up, because I need to go and figure out what the hell William is freaking out about. So I shake myself free of Claire's grasp, earning a wide-eyed gaze from her, something between shock and fear.

"Keep an eye on Jake," I repeat firmly. Claire nods once, and leans in to kiss me goodbye, but I have already turned out the door before she gets the chance.

…

I pound an access code into the lab doors, tapping my foot impatiently as it slides open. In all the years I've been coming to the lab I don't think it has ever taken this long. Maybe it just feels prolonged because of the building worry in my chest. I feel it tightening, making me feel this strange sense of anxiousness.

When the doors finally part, I feel a hard breath leave my lungs, as if all the oxygen has been pushed out. The lab is in utter chaos, tables flipped over, glass shattered and papers strewed all across the floor. What the hell happened here? I open my mouth to call out to Will but decide against it at the last minute. Whoever is here, whoever did this, I don't want to alert them of my presence any more than I already have.

I am thankful that I decided to grab my gun before leaving, and I pull it out now, gripping it tightly as I scan the room. I take a few hesitant steps into the chaos that is now the lab, looking for any sign of William.

A sudden hand grabbing my arm causes me to jump, whirling around and training my gun on the figure behind me. Will's blue eyes go wide and his hands fly up in defense. Seeing it's only him, relief floods my body. I hadn't even realized how worried about him I actually was until I see him standing there before me in one piece. Granted, he looks like hell. His clothes are disheveled, white lab coat splattered with red blood stains.

"I hope none of that is yours," I said bluntly, gesturing at the mess with my pistol.

"Watch where you're pointing that thing, Al, Jesus." Will steps to the side, out the line of fire. He pulls up his shirt and reveals a rather large bruise, accompanied by a gash through his flesh.

"What happened?" I snap furiously, examining the wound. Whoever touched him is going to die. I have to admit I'm feeling more like a cop than I have at all since this STARS business began, as if he is a witness and I'm trying to gather information.

Will runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair, trying and failing to smooth it away from his face. "I was just working on some reports, you know, trying to get caught up, and next thing I knew I was being attacked." He frowns slightly as he tries to recall the events. I give Will a look, silently telling him to go on.

"I tried to fight them off, Al, but I'm not cut out for combat like you. They destroyed all the test tubes." Here his breath hitches as if it physically pains him to tell me this. In all honesty, it might. William has devoted his entire life to this place, to his research and his virus. The idea that someone had ruined all his work must be killing me.

"Who attacked you?" I ask sharply. That feeling of panic is back, constricting my throat like it's choking me out. For someone to come here, to actually get past the security and then attack a scientist, that was serious. This was bad news, and it had disaster written all over it.

"I don't know," Will says, a bit sadly, like he feels he betrayed me or something by not being able to answer the question. "But I think they were looking for you."

A sharp breath passes through my lips. Me? What could anybody possibly want with me? I don't know, and this whole situation has raised more questions than anything. I have a feeling I'm not going to like the answers when I find them out.

Replacing my gun into the holster, I place a hand gently on William's shoulder. "Go home," I tell him. "Get some rest, okay? I'll call you in the morning to make sure you're alright."

William blinks a few times, staring at me as though he is trying to find the words to say. When nothing comes out, he takes a step closer and wraps his arms around me. The tight hug catches me off guard completely, and I feel my muscles tense up. I've never been one for physical contact, aside from the recent affair with Claire. But I can feel that this is important to Will, that he is trying to draw strength from me through this act.

So I relax against him, allowing myself to wrap my own arms around his skinny frame. For as long as I can remember, we have been best friends, and I have always felt this strange need to protect him. While he was one of the most brilliant men I had ever met, in many ways he was still so very innocent and I had always felt a responsibility to keep him safe. This whole incident had made me realize that I wasn't doing that nearly well enough. What if something had happened to him? I don't think I would have ever been able to forgive myself for it. He is my best friend, and no matter how hard I try to pretend that doesn't mean anything to me, I know I would be lost without him.

"I love you, Al," he mumbles, the words muffled by the fact that his mouth is pressed to my shoulder.

Rolling my green eyes, I push him away. "Yeah, yeah," I drawl. "I'm glad you're safe." It's the closest thing I can manage to returning the sentiment.

From the look he gives me, the shine in his blue eyes, I think he realizes this. A slow smirk spreads over his lips. "It's alright. I know you love me too."

"I don't love anyone," I reply harshly. But the words taste like a lie in my mouth. I am thinking then of him, of Claire, of Jake. And it dawns on me slowly that maybe I am capable of loving people, that maybe I've been loving people and not even realizing it. Love is funny like that, I think. It doesn't take any effort. At least, it takes a lot less effort than it does to keep yourself walled off all the time.


	13. Missing

**A/N: I owe so many apologies for how long it's taken me to get to this. I honestly don't have any valid excuse, so I'm just going to continue to apologize profusely. I really hope my readers are still around and still following the story, because this is pretty much the turning point chapter. I'm happy to have finally reached this point. As always, the readers are my driving force and I love each of you completely. I hope this chapter is good enough to make up for my absence because I'm excited about it. Anyway, I don't own Resident Evil, but I've been having really strange dreams about Wesker lately…**

Missing:

The cherry of my cigarette falls off when I go to ash. I always take this as a warning sign that something bad is about to happen. I've been chain smoking since I left the labs and all the way back across town. My initial relief that William is okay has worn off, and has left in its wake the lingering fear of what was to come. Whoever ransacked the lab was clearly after something, and Will seemed to think it was me.

I shake my head a little and turn the car onto my street, discarding the burnt out cigarette out the crack in the window. I feel something like fear building in my chest, a feeling I just don't know what to do with. There have only been a few times in my life I have ever been scared before. Starting at Umbrella. Killing Marcus. Realizing I had feelings for Claire. I really cant think of more than that. But the fear that is ripping through me right now, I don't think it compares to any before. Because now I don't just have myself to take care of. I have a child that is dependent on me. I have a girl that I just might be falling for. I have obligations to keep them safe. It's about more than just me, just getting through the days.

When I pull up to my house, I almost slam on the breaks in the middle of the road. A police car is parked in my driveway. I can see the STARS logo on it clear as day. My fingers curl tighter around the wheel as I ease the car up to the curb and shift into park, killing the engine. What the hell is a STARS car doing here? My first thought is that Claire called Chris to come over, but one, her brother still doesn't know a damn thing about us, and two, he is on duty tonight and knows better than to drop by while on the clock.

I slam the car door harder than necessary and take the steps to my front door. It's already unlocked, so I push the door open, and freeze right in the doorway as I take in the scene before me. The first thing I notice is Claire, but it's mostly because of her sobs that are echoing through the room. She is sitting on the couch, curled up, tears streaming down her face. Jill is beside her, hand on her leg, comforting her in quiet words I cant really hear.

"Captain." The feeling of a hand on my shoulder causes me to jump. I turn to see Chris standing behind me. He has a somber look, the kind that just screams bad news. Judging by his sister's current state, I can only imagine.

I try to stay calm, because this is my team and I have to be in control of the situation even if I'm the only person who has no idea what is going on. But there is a harshness in my voice as I ask what happened, and I see Chris visibly flinch away from the words. Chris opens his mouth to reply but before he can get a word out, Claire's soft voice calls out to me from across the room.

"A-Albert," she cries, and I don't think I have ever heard such a broken sound in all my life. In a few easy steps, I am in front of her, dropping to my knees and taking her small hands in both of mine. I don't give a damn about Chris or Jill being there and finding out what we have been hiding for months. Right now, she needs someone to comfort her and it's going to be me.

"What's wrong?" I ask, still frantic but much more tenderly than the way I spoke to her brother only moments before.

Claire looks at me, her bright blue eyes rimmed with tears. Whatever she is trying to say, it's clearly stuck in her throat and refusing to come out. I give her hands a reassuring squeeze, suddenly overly aware of my heart thudding in my chest. I swear it's loud enough for the rest of the room to hear. The redhead turns away, another great sob breaking from her chest. "They took Jake," she whispers, words barely audible I'm not even sure she spoke at all. "They…they just came in, and I couldn't do anything. They were too strong, and they took him, and-"

The sound of my phone ringing cuts through her words. I stumble to my feet, dizzy and disoriented and trying to sort out how the only three people in the entire world that I care about have both been hurt in a single night. I've never been a particularly good person, but when I care about something, my dedication is unrivaled. It's what fueled me through years and years of research, what drove me to become the man I am now. And whoever did this, whoever dared to harm the people I care about, they are going to pay dearly.

I dig my phone out of my pocket and answer it. The silence in the room is overwhelming as I murmur a quick hello. I feel Jill, Chris and Claire all watching me intently, hanging onto the moment like it's some kind of life support.

"Albert." The voice on the other end is familiar, but that doesn't make it any less discomforting. "I trust by now you have made it home. Good. The distraction at the lab worked quite lovely."

I am gripping the phone so tight I'm afraid it might break in my hold. "Spencer," I hiss. His name is like poison on my lips. "Spencer, I swear to god, if you hurt my son-"

"Relax, Albert," he says with a dark chuckle. "Your son is quite safe, I assure you. For now, anyway. Here, why don't you say hello?"

There is a sound like he is shifting the phone, and then I hear some shallow breathing, followed by Jake's small voice. "Daddy?"

A feeling of relief passes through me at the confirmation that he is in fact alive. "Jake," I say quickly. "Jake, I'm coming for you, okay? I'll be there-"

"Time's up," Spencer growls. "And I have business to see to, so I really must be letting you go." I open my mouth to scream at him, maybe beg, I have no idea. I've never felt this desperation before, ripping into me, making me feel completely helpless to do anything. Anyway, it doesn't matter, because a moment later the line goes dead. I should have known.

The room has become deafeningly silent again. I look around at the three people watching me, waiting for me to do something, say something, but I just don't know what to do. I don't think I have ever not known what to do before this moment. "Captain?" It's Jill the breaks the silence, approaching me slowly, her pale eyes searching my face for something. "You know where he is." It's not a question, not the way she says it.

Numbly, I nod.

Jill reaches up to touch my upper arm. I don't shift away like I might have done in a normal situation, but then nothing about this night has been particularly normal. Hell, I don't think anything about my entire life has been normal. The brunette woman gives a slight dip of her head. "I'm coming with you."


	14. Rescue

**A/N: My apologies for the delay. If I am being totally honest with you all, I sort of slipped into a bit of depression over a few things, and I was having a hard time writing because of it. A few things that I need to address in terms of comments left, which were unfortunately by guest reviewers and could not be handled privately: **

**Guest one: You seem to have misread the paragraph. Jill was merely stating that Wesker knew where to find Spencer, not that she herself knew. I apologize if my writing made that unclear in anyway. **

**Guest two: You asked how Spencer knew about Jake. On the one hand, I tend to believe that Spencer just knows all, because Umbrella has eyes and ears everywhere. If you would like a more valid reason, I think it's safe to assume that Wesker would have talked about Jake, and since he works for Umbrella, it's plausible that word got to Spencer. For sure, Will knew about him, and Will does tend to have a bit mouth in my opinion. It's not unlikely that at some point in time Spencer became aware of Jake's existence. **

**Again, I'm sorry for the delay, but I have decided the rest of the plot, which should only be a few more chapters to go. I appreciate anyone who has been sticking around, and would like to thank you for your continued support. All my love~ Skye**

Rescue:

"So you and Claire, huh?"

I grip the steering wheel tighter as I drive. I didn't want her to come with, but one cannot possibly deter a determined Jill Valentine. So there she is, sitting in the passenger seat and gazing out the window. It has started to rain and the droplets are rolling down the glass in little rivulets. I want to tell her that this is hardly the time for this interrogation session, but I suppose it's better than sitting in silence and drawing up horrible images of my son.

"Chris is going to freak out, you know," she goes on, glancing over at me.

"I'm well aware," I retort, keeping my gaze transfixed on the road ahead of me. I turn my lights on to cut through the fog. Even though it's only the afternoon, the clouded sky has made it darker. "Why do you think Miss Redfield and I have been keeping it to ourselves?"

Jill recoils a little into the seat from the harshness of my tone. I almost feel bad for snapping at her, but I've had quite the exhausting day, and I don't particularly care to discuss my relationship on top of it all. And to think, I was so looking forward to having a nice day in. Once again the thought crosses my mind that I cannot seem to catch a break.

A few more silent moments pass by. Traffic is moving slowly because people seem unable to drive properly in the rain. I catch myself wondering how many accidents there will be called in today, and then wonder why I care at all when this whole police thing is just a big game of charades to me. Spencer has been residing in a manor house hidden deep in the woods outside of town, usually not too long of a drive, but at this rate it is going to take twice as long to get there.

"Who is Spencer?" Jill asks then. This question is almost worse than anything she could possibly ask about Claire, and I wish I had allowed that conversation to continue instead. I start to instinctively reply that he is my boss, but of course I cant tell her that. My second response is that he owns Umbrella, but I don't need to raise questions about why the owner of a highly reputable pharmaceutical company is kidnapping children from their homes.

In truth, I have been trying to figure it out myself. I get the feeling I don't want to know the answer, that he has the intention of using my son for some twisted experiment. The mere thought makes my blood boil. Sure, I have never been innocent in this whole matter with Umbrella and the experiments they conducted- an image of Lisa Trevor flashes across the back of my mind- but to kidnap a defenseless child…I just cant seem to figure out what the hell he is after.

Jill must have realized I didn't want to talk about this or anything else. She goes back to watching the rain, and I focus on watching the road, and we sit in silence as I drive further out of Raccoon City.

"What makes you so sure this Spencer guy wont have left?" Jill's low voice cuts through the silence once again. I never noticed before how many questions she asks. I suppose Jill is just the kind of person that wants to know as much as possible before entering a situation, unlike Christopher who just runs in headlong without thinking it through. I tend to plan ahead myself, weigh the options and always, always have a backup plan. But right now, with Jake involved, I realize that I am just making it up as I go.

"Because," I snap back simply. Because Spencer wouldn't have called me and told me it was him just to take off and leave. Because Spencer clearly has some bigger plan; Spencer always has some sort of plan. Even if I haven't figure it out what it was. Because Spencer wants me to come and find Jake myself. I cant bring myself to care if I am walking into a trap. I am aware that, chances are, Spencer is luring me to him for a reason.

"You really love the kid, huh?" Jill's voice has grown softer now. I glance over at her and see the way her blue eyes are fixated on me, searching for something. I am grateful that I slipped my dark glasses on before we left. People's eyes are always giving them away, and I don't want her to see the pain and fear I am sure mine are displaying.

I never would have expected myself to become so infatuated so the child, upon meeting him two months ago. But in that short time, I have grown to love and care about him more than I ever knew was possible, more than I have ever loved anything. He quickly became the most important thing in my life, more so even than the research I have dedicated my entire life to.

"I… love him, yes," I reply slowly. It is the first time I have ever openly admitted to loving anyone. But there it is. He is my child; I do not find it too far fetched that I would love him. I have spent so long walling myself off and refusing to let anyone into my self created sanctuary. But with Jake, it is so easy to love him. He is so innocent and so in need of someone to protect him. And I have found that I enjoy that feeling of being needed, even if it is only to fill a glass of water.

Jill reaches over and places a hand on my shoulder. "It's okay, you know," she tells me quietly. "It's only natural to love your child."

Yes. And yet that love for my child was not enough to keep him safe. Love is not enough to save someone, no matter how much people try to pretend it is.

We slip back into our silence. I withdraw a cigarette from my pack and light it up, half expecting Jill to chastise me for the bad habit, but she just keeps her mouth closed and watches me carefully like she is waiting for me to fall apart. I have never fallen apart in my life, but if I was ever going to try it I believe now would be the time. But breaking down isn't going to bring Jake back, and it isn't going to stop Spencer from whatever twisted plan he has formed. I roll the window down a little and feel the rain splatter in against my cheek.

After what feels like hours of driving on a cramped back road through the woods, the manor house comes into sight. I stare up at its imposing presence, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Killing the engine, I give a small nod to the brunette beside me. "Ready, Captain?" She asks, mustering up a brave smile.

As ready as I would ever be, I suppose. My fingers hover over the door handle for a moment before actually gripping it and pushing the door open. Jill does the same, coming around to stand at my side. She is one of the most loyal people I have ever met, and in that moment I feel more grateful for her presence than I ever thought possible.

There is a nagging voice in the back of head reminding me of the entire reason the STARS even came to be. But standing there with Jill, her blue eyes trained on me in concern as she awaited my order, I have to wonder if I will ever truly be able to follow through with it. And with what Spencer has done, the lines he has crossed in a single day by attacking my best friend, my girlfriend, and my son, I'm having a hard time feeling any sense of loyalty to Umbrella at the moment.

Anyway, those are thoughts to sort through later. For now, I just need to get in, and rescue my son. "I'm coming, Jake," I whisper aloud, before taking a few steps towards the looming manor home. Whatever awaited inside, I was prepared to deal with it, and whatever it took, my child was getting out of there alive.


End file.
